READING RECOMMENDATIONS :)

💭 Every few blog entries, I'll recommend two books from my reading list. I'm a very eccentric reader, so I'll post everything from historical fiction to homicidal manifestos.  

1.

"There is nothing special in (you)...it is in those who love (you)." 

Klara is an AF- an 'artificial friend'. Literally. She's the product of decades of scientific and social progress. And she's just one of several million 'friends' whose main purpose is to provide moral and intellectual companionship to the new class of genetically 'elevated' human children. In Ishiguro's usual heartbreaking, genre-bending style, Klara and the Sun is a masterpiece. Thoughtful, earnest, observational and with slight undertones of parody, the story of Klara's misunderstood and unconditional love for her human 'friend' Josie will stay with you long after you've turned the last leaf of this book. 

If you want a deluge of thought-provoking quotes, a cry over your 3pm coffee, or a springboard for your own existential questions about what it means to be human and what it means to love and be loved, THIS is for you. 

2. 

If POWER were a play, I know it'd be this one. 

A Raisin in the Sun is at once arresting and inspiring. The mundane suburban backdrop is coloured by the various painful hues of mid-50s America's civil rights struggles. Race, gender, social class and "no money" clash head-on in this celebration of faith, family and fearlessness. From the aspiring Black female doctor (we see you, Beneatha!) to the 'past-his- time' alcoholic father who is caught between his hope for a better future for his son and his disillusionment at the barriers that stand in the way of non-White Americans. To the starry-eyed, slightly deluded scholarship student from 'the motherland' and the well-to-do suitor who struggles to reconcile the labels he bears, 'black' and 'rich.' This dramedy is for you if you've ever asked the question: "what happens to a dream deferred?"

Congrats, Grad!

Tatou O I Ioritana

"We talked all night about the rest of our lives

Where are we gonna be when we turn twenty-five?"- Vitamin C, 'Graduation Song'

December 5th, 2013: After receiving our Secondary School Graduation Certificates, with my two high school besties, Isabella and Jasmine J (remember those monikers they'd dish out if you had the same name as another kid in class, lol?)

Tomorrow, the high school I graduated from- and which I now teach at- will have its Prizegiving and Graduation Ceremonies. I'm feeling super nostalgic for two reasons. 

Firstly, wow! "Another lot", as I used to hear my father say at the end of every academic year. The senior graduating class is one I've taught English and History to for two years. Over the year-and-a-half we've spent together, we've developed a great dynamic. Everyone speaks their mind, whilst keeping in mind that, as I said, EVERYONE speaks their mind. That is, have your say, but know that others will also have theirs. For me, this fosters an appreciation for open communication, and a respect for others, which will last these young people a lifetime. With uni, work and whatever else they may choose to do looming just on the horizon, I have every hope that they will go out into the big wide world with love, compassion and resilience. That they will make space for others to grow and succeed. And that, as they navigate the vast ocean that is the 'outside world' (lol), they'll be able to say they learned a thing or two from us, their teachers. 😭

Secondly: it's the ten year anniversary of my own high school graduation! Where did the bloody time go? This time a decade ago, I was among my classmates, cleaning and decorating the SDA Youth Hall. It was a lot of work, but we were so excited to finally be graduating. We did flower arrangements, changed the seating arrangements eighteen million times, got mini-mini heart attacks every time a balloon popped (and then ended up going to look for more white balloons at midnight!), and then watched midnight turn into early morning as we sang our hearts out to the gentle strumming of an old guitar. I still remember the songs we sang: Cups (by Anna Kendrick), and Ou Te Ofo Ina Atu A'u Nei Mo 'Oe (as sung by Punialava'a). I know, nostalgia galore! 

At work today I watched as the various prizes were being organized and readied for presentation tomorrow. I can imagine the anxiousness that some kids are probably wrestling with right now. "Did I do well enough?" "Am I getting that top prize like I did last year?" "Are my parents going to be satisfied with my effort this year?" "What's going to happen to me if they aren't...?" Lots and lots of questions, and even we as teachers certainly don't have all the answers. Not to your questions, and definitely not to a lot of our own. We are all human, at the end of the (long!) day. I'll be honest here- there are still errors I made on some of my final exams in 2013 that I regret, to this day, and think back to, often. No matter that I have enjoyed much success after high school, and in my professional life. Silly things I said as a teenager, graphs I didn't construct neatly enough, maps I misread, calculations I went over multiple times and still got completely wrong...those come back every once in a while to check in on me and remind me that before this, there was THAT. I was THAT. And no matter what any student is NOW, we cannot say that they won't go on to have wildly successful, extremely productive, wonderfully fulfilling lives. 

That cliche Samoan proverb is right. E toe oso fo'i le la. The sun will rise again tomorrow. It has never once failed to rise- even on a cloudy day, Mr. Sun is there, you just can't quite see him very well. Where there's daylight, Sol is smiling. And even in the densest darkness, if there's a little light, there is always, always hope. 

Who Do You Think You Are? Part II

They Call Her 'Alayo'

"Alayo", he said. "One for whom bread is not enough."

-A Raisin in the Sun, Lorraine Hansberry

When I remember my first trip to Europe, I remember, more than anything, the various emotions that I felt on the way and whilst there. It's like that, I think, with most things in my life. I remember events, places and people based on how they make me feel.

After overcoming that initial laundry hurdle from Part I of this story, I was faced with what I can only describe in the words of Po, reluctant Dragon Warrior: my old enemy. Not stairs (well, yes stairs, but not so much!). No. My old enemy is social awkwardness! I know, I know. I have three/four jobs, ALL of which require daily interaction with people both virtually and IRL. Word to the wise: Socializing more and working more with people DOES improve social anxiety, but it often does not 'cure' it. I'm using the word 'cure' here because it best describes the kind of social awkwardness and anxiety that I have.

I still recall the first day of the conference. Curators, Vice Curators and other executive members from Global Shapers Hubs all around the world were lining up to register for the summit. As I descended the staircase to join them, I could hear them chattering away about checking into their rooms, meeting their roommates (omg!) and picking up their welcome packs. I was a little sad to be leaving the room I had had to myself for my first two nights in Geneva. Of course, there was also a little pang of excitement as I went to see where they were going to move me. That registration line was one of the most transformative experiences of my life. I've never before been in such a happy, welcoming environment! Everyone, and I mean, EVERYONE, was saying 'hello' like old, long-lost high school friends. Sometimes, interactions in these kinds of spaces can feel forced or pressured. However, there was absolutely none of that in any of the queues we stood in. Despite our jet-lag, several missing bags, and even a mistaken room number or two, everyone was so thrilled to meet people with similar ambitions and challenges.

When the Summit first kicked off, they allocated participants into smaller groups called Purpose Circles. We'd meet every morning, between sessions, and every evening, before going back to our hotel. As the name probably suggests, the Purpose Circles were to help connect Shapers on a human, personal level. They were to provide a 'base' that we could come back to for moral support as well as, hey, just people to eat lunch with :) This is such a gift for a socially awkward, anxious person like myself who is still learning to be comfortable in crowds. Our purpose circle comprised of eight Curators/ Vice Curtaors: Alliance (from a hub China), Madhav (from a hub in India), myself (from the one and onlyyyy hub in Samoa), Emmanuel (from a hub in Nigeria), Madai (from a hub in Mexico), Bengu (from a hub in Canada), Anastasija (from a hub in Serbia), and Joel Dean (from a hub in Jamaica). Our leader was Thales, a former Shaper, from Brazil. Each Purpose Circle had a number- ours was '45'. 

When I was growing up, the youth at church used to sing this beautiful song: The Circle of Friends. Attending the Global Shapers Summit 2023 and meeting people from all walks of life, all manner of nationalities and cultural as well as religious backgrounds, has made this a reality for me. I remember eating lunch with Madhav, Emmanuel and, surprise, one of my wantoks from P.N.G: Kurere. As we searched for a shady spot to eat and look out over Lake Geneva, Madhav asked us, "have you guys read The Alchemist?" We then all said at the same time, I kid you not- "The universe conspired to help me find you!"


What a beautiful testament to our shared humanity. To the commonness of our love for learning, for art, for friendship, for sharing. That four complete strangers from four supposedly dissimilar and geographically distant parts of the world should say the exact same quote from the exact same book at the exact same time is proof that humanity is capable of so much magic and beauty. And that the universe still conspires, every day, to help us love and heal and grow.

Emmanuel and I, after a great afternoon of discussing books, books, books, and how awesomely cool the European summer is compared to the saunas that we call home. #Nigeria #Samoa

One amazing thing I learned about my new friend Emmanuel, from Nigeria, is that he too is crazy about literature! Lit lovers are a dangerous combo if you don't wanna hear about books, books, and more books...for three hours straight! And by books, I mean, we know every theme, quote, plot point...publisher's name! What a brilliant thing it is to be drinking apple juice and analyzing Chinua Achebe in the middle of Europe! From Achebe, we naturally progressed to talking about the Foundation N.U.S staple, A Raisin in the Sun. It's the best friend and worst enemy of so, so many young people who take HEN005 (Introduction to Literature) in Samoa. It has also been one of my forever loves. A play that speaks life and power into dry bones. When Emmanuel told us he was a Yoruba, just like Joseph Asagai, I knew I had to ask him for the actual meaning of that famed (and majestic!) nickname Joe gave Beneatha. "Alayo". According to the play, it is supposed to mean, "one for whom bread is not enough." It's intended as a compliment to Beneatha's stubbornness and independence. She was, after all, a Black woman in 1950s America who dreamed of becoming a doctor and marrying for love. She was told to give up, to shut up, to settle down, to calm down. In a world where women are faced with so many ups-and-downs, imposed, often, by others, Joseph sees and admires Beneatha's refusal to be shut down or locked up. "What does Alayo MEAN?" I asked my new friend. "You hear things in more depth when they are spoken in your native language. I know Lorraine Hansberry was an American. But you are a Yoruba. So, you must tell me, please, what do you hear, when they say, ALAYO?"

Emmanuel smiled. He's a lawyer and a tech developer and marketer. Witty, wise, thoughtful, and very mindful- as most young people from former colonies are- of the reverence that our indigenous languages deserve. "Alayo," he finally answered, "is not a name that can be summarized in one or even a hundred sentences. It is too full of meaning, too deep and too wide, for any single definition. You can't, you know, contain it!" He was going to apologize to me for giving what he thought must be a limited definition. I stopped him. "That," I said, "is the best thing I've ever heard." And then I told him and Madhav I wished I could change my name to Alayo😂

Over that weekend, I met so many amazing young people who are changing the world for the better. Some had flown out of active war zones just to be there. Just to tell their stories, and to hear the stories of others. I estimate that seventy percent of the people I said hello to had no idea where (or what!) Samoa even is. I'm a proud Samoan. That was a humbling and eye-opening few days for me. Perhaps this is kinda what the Overview Experience is like for astronauts? I remember a retired astronaut once said, "you look out...everything you've ever known is there. It fits right behind your thumb. It's amazing, You can even cry!"

The world is a massive melting pot of stories, hopes, dreams, fears...Of all the attempts there ever have been to define what it means to be a human being, I will always like best the one I have taken from my friend Emmanuel's respect and understanding of his language. Humanity is so broad, so powerful, so ambitious, so full of strife. The moment you accept your greatness, but also your smallness, you take the first and most crucial step in celebrating the diverse magnificence of the race that we all belong to: the human race.

Are You In It For The Long Haul?

Life is a Long-Haul Flight

Teachers: ever get a panicky email from a student who's submitted the wrong draft of an assignment, but you're 36,000 feet in the air and in a different timezone?

That was my experience on my first ever long-haul flight. I was on an Emirates plane, less than five hours out of Auckland and passing high above the beautifully lit Australian continent, when a notification pinged on my Chromebook. Said Chromebook only had about fifty minutes of power left- fifty minutes against the flight's remaining time of approximately ten hours. The two elderly passengers beside me had already drifted into a very peaceful nap (lucky for them! 😭), and my Samoan manners had kicked in. "Don't wake these poor people up with your loud typing." A friend at uni back in Wellington once told me that my typing sounds like firewood being chopped with an exceptionally strong ax. There is no school of music (or thought!) in which that sounds soothing during a long flight into a different timezone. I had my laptop on only so I could read through my notes for the conference I was going to. I ignored the email 'notif' for fifteen minutes, and then two more came in. Five minutes after, another three. I realized I couldn't ignore whoever or whatever it was that was popping up so urgently in the middle of the Indian Ocean. I opened it to find a very distressed student, detailing how they had sent me what was actually only a draft (and not a very good one), and then stating how this was probably the tipping point of their academic life and "it's all over now, isn't it, Miss?"

How do you respond to that? ... When I was preparing to sit my first exams as a high school student, my father, also a teacher, gave me some advice: "Look at the questions/scenarios/instructions carefully. If they contain more than three words, use a pencil to separate the two or three distinct parts. More than three words usually means the question has more than three parts. Questions, within a question. And you will need to answer them all if you want to get the two out of two or four out of four. People get three out of four marks when something is missing. Don't miss anything." I've never gone wrong following that time-tested wisdom. A very wise man, my father was. 

Sitting in my cold seat, staring out the window at the aircraft wing gently palpitating against the dark sky, I closed my eyes and tried my best to meditate on the advice I'd been given so long ago, by someone who is no longer here. As I played and re-played my father's calm tenor voice in my head, many memories of my own school years wove themselves into my thought-line. I could see myself sitting in the back of our Year 8 classroom, feeling so nervous because I was one of three 'nerdy' students who had been moved from Year 7 to Year 8 to trial the Year 8 National Examinations. This was to help answer a question that a lot of our teachers had had for many years: 'Are the Year 7 and 8 curricula so well-aligned that a reasonably 'good' Year 7 student might pass the Year 8 Nationals and be eligible to move straight to Year 9?' There I was, twelve years old in a class of thirteen and fourteen-year-olds who all already knew each other well. I was very nervous...and very unprepared for the exams. What we discovered that year was that the strands of the two curricula were very well-aligned, but the bulk of the content in some of the major strands of the 'difficult' subjects (Science and Social Studies) was vastly unalike. My Year 7 notes were not gonna cut it. Not even close. Without my knowledge or consent (😅) my mother took the initiative of asking the nicest Year 8 girl she could find if we could please have some notes for Science and Social Studies. Mothers, aye? To this day I still laugh at the memory of how mortified I was when said girl came up to me after class one Friday and handed me not only a whole folder of notes, but also BOTH her actual exercise books so I could photocopy what she had jotted down throughout the three-and-a-half terms I'd missed. There are so many comedies, drama-dies and book series about how mean and petty middle-school and high school kids are. But I'll tell you this: there are millions of great kids who are so well-raised and grounded that I don't think all of Hollywood would even KNOW how to properly portray them on screen or paper. What they say about women in film is also very true about teenagers: the ones you see on screen are NEVER as amazing as the ones you meet in real life. I made it into high school (yeah, all three of us guinea pigs passed the exams!) because of an undeserved act of kindness. I didn't know the girl well. But she saw a need, and she helped me. To this day, I count her as a dear friend. Precious, rare, beautiful. (We had a laugh about all of this over ice-cream and fries a few years ago).  

I opened my eyes. Back to the panicky email of my student, thousands of miles away and below. The cabin crew were bringing out 'breakfast'- a piping hot spinach ricotta that we could have with either coffee, juice or water. It occurred to me, as I slowly removed the packaging from the food, that I was here, on my way to Dubai, and then Europe, because someone had given me a random kindness that I didn't even have the courage to ask for myself. And she wasn't even holding it against me like some people might have- Coconut Wireless in these parts of the world loves a good "I helped her get everything she's showing off about" story. I was not only given a great gift, I was also given a great amount of grace. 

I clicked to open the 'compose' tab, and copied in all my students who were due to submit the same assignment. Others had actually not sent me anything yet, so the panicker was way ahead by even just worrying about the task. "Being as I am currently on leave, and will not be able to mark anything, anyway, I would like to grant you all an extension of three days on the final term task. You may send it in before midnight, your time, on the new due date. Those of you who've submitted 'drafts' are welcome to send in your final, correct files on this amended date as well. All the best, and be kind to one another :) "

I've been blessed with a lot of success in my career as an educator, but none so great as the feeling of having paid forward a debt that I had owed for more than a decade. If you receive grace, all you can do is pass it on. As I checked the flight map, I saw we had eight hours of flight time remaining. There was no land below or ahead of us for miles. Middle of nowhere but also in the best place I had ever been. My journey had come full circle. 

A short and not-very-good clip I took of our sunrise landing in Dubai.